


Companions React to Getting Caught Under the Mistletoe with the Sole Survivor

by tea_petty



Series: Collection of Companions' Reactions [14]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Christmas, Companions, Companions React, F/F, F/M, Mistletoe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 20:10:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16899105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tea_petty/pseuds/tea_petty
Summary: It's beginning to feel a lot like Christmas.





	Companions React to Getting Caught Under the Mistletoe with the Sole Survivor

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr; tea-petty

**Cait:**   Cait looked over at Sole from her place at the bar, watching as she chatted animatedly with MacCready.  

“Just go over and talk to her already.”

Cait shot Hancock a sharp look.

“It’s no’ that easy.”

Hancock leaned one casual forearm against the counter, swirling his drink in his hand.

“It is actually,” he said matter-of-factly, “You walk up to her, you say ‘hi’, and you go from there.”  Hancock grinned, “Or, you could just skip to the part where you admit your undying love for her.”

Cait’s face flashed crimson, “Sod off!”

Hancock took a sip of his drink, “I’m just saying.  You better make your move before someone else does.”

Cait pursed her lips thoughtfully; she hated to admit it, but Hancock was right.  There was no way she was the only one to notice Sole in all her greatness.  She had a flashy backstory, and had vanquished the boogie man of the Commonwealth, not to mention she was soft on the eyes – a beacon of radiance in the humdrum of post-war life.

“I suppose ye got me there.”

Cait scooted off the plush, red seat of the barstool.

“’Atta girl,” Hancock slid his glass over to her, still half full of whiskey.

Cait set her eyes on Sole, as she took a deep swig of the drink, before setting the glass back down on the counter.

“Here goes nothin’.”

Cait crossed the room deliberately, both stalling, and taking the extra few seconds to build her courage up.  Her back was straight, and her jaw was set as she marched on valiantly.  

“Hey, Sole!” Cait called.

Sole looked up from her conversation with MacCready, and so did he, eyebrow cocked, with a crooked smile on his face.  Cait’s crush on Sole wasn’t really much of a secret – the fiery Irish woman was a bleeding heart.

“Cait!  What’s up?  Enjoying the party?”

“Yeah, I am, I jus’ wanted to come over an’…”  Cait fought the heat that suddenly threatened to color her face again.  “chat a bit.”  She finished, her eyes wide as she tried to emphasize the casualness of her appearance.

Sole studied Cait’s strange expression, suspicious, “Sure, join us.”

“Actually, I should probably take off,” MacCready smiled a knowing smile.  “But you kids have fun.”

Sole blinked at MacCready’s abrupt announcement.  “Uh, alright, I’ll see you around MacCready.”

“Yes, you will, but uh,…”  

MacCready suddenly raised both of his arms to rest them on Sole’s shoulders, and turned her around, so that they had switched places, MacCready now closer to the door, and Sole, on the other side of Cait.

“I’ll see you around _, there_.”

He grinned, “Bye, Cait.” He winked before leaving.

Sole stared at the man’s retreating figure indignantly, “Well, that was strange, wasn’t it?  What the hell?”

From Cait’s peripheral vision, she could spot something above her, and slightly to the left. That’s when exactly what the hell was going on, hit her.  

“He left us here to chat…”

“Yeah, I know! And he was really weird about it.”

“No, I mean he left us  _here_  to chat.”

Cait let her gaze flick towards the tiny plant hanging above her, a bright blush relentlessly burning her face now.  Sole’s own gaze followed Cait’s, and she mirrored the woman’s pink hue.

“Oh.”

Cait and Sole stared at each other for a few moments, both at a loss as for what to do next. Cait watched Sole carefully, trying to read her reaction – quiet, and asking;  _Was this okay?  Did she want this too?_

Sole watched Cait’s every movement like a deer in headlights, her eyes wide, and bright, expecting but unable to facilitate, herself.  Both of them could feel the multitude of stares fixed on them from seemingly every corner of the room.  An anticipating hush had settled on the crowd of people, and the pressure seemed to well in the room like Cait’s heart had in her throat.

With all the building tension, something had to break, and something did in Cait.  It had been automatic, almost as if it hadn’t been Cait at all – as if she were watching this next sequence of events unfold from a seat in the audience.

She tilted forward, lips first, her hands raising to brace Sole’s face tenderly.  Her lips smashed against Sole’s, gentle and firm, asking her, and telling her, at the same time.  Sole’s eyelashes fluttered shut as she let Cait pull her in.  Her hands came up to rest around Cait’s shoulders, curled uselessly, as she kissed Cait back.

A round of cheers rippled throughout the room, punctuated by a few wolf whistles, undoubtedly led by Hancock.

Cait let Sole melt against her, lips moving as a jazzy rendition of  _A Christmas Song_ welled in the background.  The snow storm raged on outside, but Cait was warm and safe here, housed in Sole’s arms.

**Curie** : Curie’s eyes trailed Sole throughout the night, studying her careful mannerisms; she watched the lofty way she would shift in her seat, when deep in conversation.  She watched her careful fingertips, and how talkative they were, compared to her mouth; brushing against her clavicle in shock, or her lips, pensively.  Curie watched the way her eyes crinkled in the corners when she smiled, and then Curie watched herself fall in love, all over again.

The whole night of Sanctuary’s small Christmas Party, Curie was content, just observing all the little pieces of Sole she had adored, and sneakily, her wanting crept up on her, until about half to midnight, something inside her decided it just couldn’t settle for watching any longer.

Curie lithely rose from her spot on the couch.  A few settlers sitting by watched the abrupt motion; the almost mechanical nature of it, as she seemed to gravitate towards Sole after her established place on the sofa all evening.

Time seemed to slow as Curie glided over to where Sole was standing; her attention unclaimed for the first time Curie had seen thus far.

“Sole,  _bonsoir!”_

“Curie!”  Curie couldn’t stop her heart’s excited reaction to the way Sole’s eyes and cheeks brightened when she approached.

“I wanted to talk to you for a second, eef you don’t mind.”  Curie’s own cheeks pinkened, but her eyes stayed earnest, and her tone, resolute.

“Right here?” Sole asked, the nervous inflection not escaping Curie’s astutely, trained eye.

“ _Oui_ , zhat eez okay, no?”

“Talking?  Of course, I love talking to you!”  Sole scrambled to clarify, “B-but maybe not  _here.”_

Her eyes shot up quickly, somewhere above Curie’s head, before flicking back to Curie, her blush darkening to a brilliant vermillion.  

Curie followed the direction of the small motion, delayed, noting the familiar looking green plant, hanging jovially right above her.

“Ah!  Zhat’s right, zhis eez mistletoe!  I sink that is most appropriate for what I’m about to say.”

Sole stared at Curie, surprised and anticipating, as Curie took a deep breath, the words that had been welling in her all night, dancing on the tip of her tongue.

“…I-“

It was like when someone messed up an old TV, and the fuzzy, staticky screen would come on – all light and no sound or substance.  It was like Sole’s gaze, in all its stomach-butterflies, heart racing splendor, had wiped Curie’s mind to a blank.  Curie suddenly found herself jolted from the sentiments she had lingered on all night, the intensity of Sole’s gaze demanding her full attention, drawing her in.

Sole’s eyes seemed to grow larger, her blush, redder, as the shifting mirage of colors and shapes kaleidoscoped before Curie’s eyes.  It wasn’t until Curie felt the softness of Sole’s lips on hers, that she realized she was kissing her.  Curie couldn’t feel shy; not when something so natural seemed to lock into place, within her.  

_All I Want for Christmas_  bumbled in the background, and the festivities that scored Curie and Sole’s first kiss seemed mundane, to what had just transpired; paling in comparison to the feverish hue that had overtaken Sole.

Curie couldn’t help the silly, giddy smile on her lips, her own blush following closely in its wake.  Sole cleared her throat, one hand reaching to rub behind her neck nervously, the other lifting only slightly, to tangle with Curie’s, by her own side.

“Good talk.”

**Danse:** The door swung open as a blustery gust of winter air slipped in around the figure that loomed in the door way.  The festive, content buzz of the party died down, as curious and shocked stares graced the familiar figure.

“ _Danse_?”  Sole gasped, her voice weak, and her legs shaking as she clambered to her feet.

In all his glory, Danse, out of his familiar Brotherhood attire, but still Danse all the same, stood in the doorway, a weary look on his face, as he tried to read the room.  He had never been a social butterfly, but it had been months since anyone had seen him; since his exile to Listening Post Bravo.  Sole’s eyes hungrily took him in; his staggering matter; her space had been starved for him.  Had he always been so tall?  His eyes felt warmer than she remembered.  His hair looked soft, and healthily shiny, for someone who had been in exile.  Sole had never before seen him in casual, non-Brotherhood attire.  Danse had traded in his standard Brotherhood bodysuit, for a plain black crewneck, standard trousers, and a leather jacket that somewhat resembled Elder Maxson’s.  Had he always been so  _handsome_?  Above him, a small, green sprig of mistletoe dangled tauntingly.

“Sole,” he smiled tentatively, “you look well.”

Maybe it was the alcohol that let her be less together, but suddenly Sole felt hot, raw tears spring at the corners of her eyes, and she felt herself launch forward, towards Danse.

“You’re  _back_!”

Sole landed right into the solid, warmth of his chest, and Danse caught her readily, letting his arms envelop her.

“I’m back, I know it’s been a while, but…I’m back.”

Sole buried her face into the thin fabric of his shirt, letting it soak up her tears, as a ragged breath left her.  Danse rubbed small circles into her back; it was such an intimate gesture from him, they both seemed to have forgotten the audience.  Sole’s heart ached wantingly, at having the object of her dreams and longing finally materialized in front of her again.

“You’re back,” Sole repeated, her fingers reaching up to tangle in Danse’s shirt, before pulling him into a heated kiss.  

The normal round of cat calls and wolf whistles was absent from the note of seriousness that hung on the reunion, still though, the people of Sanctuary couldn’t bring themselves to look away.

Danse’s grip found the small of Sole’s back, and his large hands grabbed her readily, pulling her in, as he met her fervor.  Both of their cheeks were emblazoned with crimson, as they reconciled.  The kiss could’ve been seconds, or minutes, maybe even days or weeks – neither seemed to care.  Sole let Danse’s warm breath fan over her, in breaths between kisses; the only air she’d ever think to breathe again.  Danse tasted the strange mix of cigarettes and sweets on her tongue; the only food he’d ever think to taste again.  In having Sole back in his arms, Danse could hardly remember the desperate longing he had felt just a few hours before.

When they finally released each other, the party’s mood had started to rise again, and Danse fully stepped into the house, shutting the door tightly behind him. When he looked at Sole next, he was surprised to see a pair of angry, resisting hands shove at him.  Even with the element of shock, Sole’s smaller, ineffectual hands did nothing, but Danse couldn’t help but feel a twinge of hurt, at the unwanting gesture.

“Sole?”

“You  _left_  me.  I loved you and you hid yourself away!  I didn’t know if you were coming back or if you were still alive!”

Sole’s eyes glimmered wetly again, the redness from her last bout of crying, not yet vanishing from her face.

“I-I know, and I’m sorry.”  Danse offered, frowning, “But I mean it Sole, I’m back now, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’d better not,” Sole sniffled, letting her hand crumple over its place against Danse’s chest.

He rested his large one over hers.

“I promise.”

**Deacon:** “Merry X-mas, Sole!”  Deacon’s face appeared over Sole’s shoulder.

“Happy Holidays Deacon,” Sole inwardly rolled her eyes at his goofiness, before smiling warmly at him.

“Well, it certainly will be.”

Sole looked at him suspiciously, “Why do you say that?”

“No reason, it’s just, the holidays, you know?”

Deacon’s face was passive, a myriad of normalcy and averageness.  That’s how Sole knew he was plotting something.

“A time for spending time with family, and friends, and…the people you care about.”

“Right, right, because that’s completely separate from the whole ‘friends and family’ thing.” Sole nodded, matching Deacon’s replica of usualness.

Now it was Deacon’s turn to roll his eyes.  “You know what I mean.  The holidays, no matter what you do or don’t celebrate, is supposed to be a time where you tell the people you love, that you love them.”

“Shouldn’t you do that, as a general rule?”  Sole pointed out.

Deacon sighed exasperatedly.  Red flag number two – it was near impossibly to get Deacon to crack from his icy cool exterior.

“You always have an answer, don’t you?  Look, fine, you’re right.  Maybe I just need a bit of courage though, you know what I’m saying?  Help a guy out.”

Sole mind was reeling, trying to decipher the meaning of his vague response, before in the next moment, Sole saw one of Deacon’s arms rise above their heads, carrying something green and leafy – a plant?  While the other encircled her waist, and crushed her to him, pressing his lips to hers.

Sole let him lead, her hands curling up between the collision of their bodies, as Deacon’s arm braced her against him, supporting her.  It wasn’t until Deacon had slipped his tongue in to the sudden kiss that Sole had realized the thing in his other hand was a sprig of mistletoe.  Sole gasped into the heated kiss, reveling in the way unattached, never-the-same-person-for-more-than-two-years Deacon built all sorts of bridges with her. Sole squeaked and shoved him away finally when the hand that braced her up, slunk down to rest atop the curve of her ass.

“Deacon!”  Sole glared at him.

Deacon raised his hands up in surrender.

“Sorry Sole, just trying to get my message across, loud and clear.”

Sole raised an eyebrow, still glowering at the man.  

“And what message is that?”

“You mean you still didn’t get it?”  

Deacon’s uncaring, collected expression lost some of its magnitude with the pink hue that dusted his cheeks.

“Then I guess I’ll try and tell you again.”

**Hancock** :  Hancock was not a man who was easily swayed.  He was not a man who succumbed; he hadn’t to Vic when it had been Goodneighbor on the line, nor had he in Diamond City, when he had watched them launch their anti-ghoul initiative.  But standing in the basking string light glow, that made Sole’s eyes glitter in that lovely way of theirs and watching her blink up at him under the tyranny of the shoot of mistletoe, he couldn’t help but freeze.  

It was so…ridiculous, when he thought about it.  This wouldn’t be his first time around the block for him – Hancock, dangerous and handsome, was quite adept at kissing, being a Don John of sorts – both as McDonough and Hancock.  It would be his first time around the block with Sole though – should they… _go around the block_ , at all.  The thought ruffled the wings of the butterflies that swarmed in his gut.

His dark eyes lay intently on Sole’s, waiting for her to make the first move, not wanting to scare her off.  He sat, waiting, hoping.  The sweet and spicy smells of Christmas had been recreated this evening after Sole had found Christmas decorations buried deep within Sanctuary – Hancock had been skeptical at first, but now, it seemed so strangely fitting.  Intoxicating.

The lovely white light that speckled the room, scattered by the string lights they came from, made everyone look softer, as if filtering out the mud, blood, and hardships of the Commonwealth, to create a different life entirely.  Some jazzy rendition of a Christmas song played in the background, and Hancock fought the urge to pull Sole close.

He watched as Sole rocked back on her heels slightly, before smiling largely, albeit blushing, and rocking forward, onto her tiptoes, to reach up and plant a soft kiss against Hancock’s ruined mouth.

“Mm, Sole.” He breathed lightly into the kiss, his arms reaching up gently to tangle in her hair and trap her to him.  

His mouth worked gently, but eagerly against hers, and he had to force himself to slow down.  He wanted to savor this, with Sole.  

All too soon, the kiss ended.

She smiled broadly, “Merry Christmas, Hancock.”

He couldn’t even reply, before Sole leaned in to plant another soft kiss against the corner of his mouth, before turning on her heel, and whisking away, leaving Hancock frozen still, beneath the mistletoe, and string light glow.

**MacCready:** In retrospect, it was quite funny – in fact, Sole was almost positive that as soon as they were out of their current predicament, they’d be able to laugh about it.  This, the whole Christmas party, had been her idea.  She had exhumed a near ancient collection of Christmas decorations while scouring some hidden nooks and crannies in the homes of Sanctuary, with tinsel, fairy lights – everything she had remembered from the little, painted, downtown shops pre-war, complete with scented candles, and sprigs of mistletoe.

It had been thereafter she had insisted on throwing a large holiday party for Sanctuary, with invites going to all her friends who lived with her at the settlement, as well as some special invites for her non-Sanctuary friends; the mayor of Goodneighbor, a certain Diamond City detective and investigative journalist, and the like.    It was in this way, she had found a way to get almost all of the people she loved in a room together.  She had spared no unearthed treasure for this party; every string of garland, every string of lights, was placed meticulously – Santa’s workshop recreated in Sanctuary for the evening.  She had sprinkled sprigs of mistletoe throughout the building – she had felt daring and mischievous when she had done it – but now, sitting under a sprig she had forgotten about, she was mortified.  An equally red, and stammering MacCready sat next to her.  From around the room, the other party-goers stared with varying levels of enthusiasm; some were knowing and amused at the turn of events, others were knowing and exasperated – honestly, what were MacCready and Sole waiting for at this point?

“I -uh, must’ve forgot about this one.”  Sole said, trying to sound sure, but sounding small.

“It’s…no big deal. It happens.”

“Yeah.” Sole squeaked.

They were quiet for a few moments, and Sole couldn’t help but notice how viciously RJ was avoiding her gaze.  She tried to avoid him back, shame further burning her cheeks, at the reminder that  _she_  had sought  _him_  out.

“It was a stupid mistake,” Sole murmured, her mouth hideously dry.  “You don’t have to…follow through.”

“You kiddin’ me?” She heard him mutter, his face tilted down, embarrassed.  “I always follow through.”

In the next moment, one of his hands was gently guiding her face into a warm kiss.  Sole stiffened at the gesture; the strangeness of his mouth on hers – a place she had only gone in her fantasies.  The real thing was so different.  

Sole gasped lightly, before throwing her arms around MacCready’s neck, and deepening the kiss.  MacCready grunted, before wrapping his other arm securely around her waist, and kissing back with a new fervor.  Sole felt his calloused touches delicately caress the side of her cheek, down her jaw, leaving a brilliant blush in its wake. When Sole peeked an eye open, she could see that MacCready was blushing too.

Sole kept her eyes pinched shut a few moments after MacCready’s lips gently left hers.  She wanted to capture the feeling, save it on her skin.  When her eyes fell open, MacCready was looking at her feverishly, be it from embarrassment or the lingering sentiments of their kiss, Sole couldn’t tell.

It suffices to say, he didn’t leave her side the rest of the night.

**Nick Valentine:**   The night had been hectic to say the least, as it turned out that hosting a Christmas party was  _loads_ more stressful than simply enjoying one.  Sole had been bustling around the entire evening; when she had finished decorating the house for the party, she had taken to her hosting duties – greeting guests, serving guests, making sure the booze kept flowing, the music played on, and that holiday cheer was kept at an all-time high.

“Geez doll, isn’t this supposed to be a party?”  

Nick took a drag of his cigarette, as he watched Sole whiz around with trays of food, and drink.  He had long since given up on helping her, after she had shot down his first attempts.  He watched as she stooped over to grab another tray, full of empty glasses and plates.

“It is a party!” She paused to look at him indignantly.

“And it’s a swell one at that, all I’m saying is, you haven’t sat down once tonight.”

Nick gently leaned forward, cigarette nestled between his lips, and reached for the tray in Sole’s hands, gently removing it, and setting it back down on the table.

“Take a load off – everyone’s fed, and boozed up, you can relax now.”

Sole huffed a sigh, before picking up the tray again, and getting up hurriedly.  

“I will – I swear, I’m just going to run this tray back to the kitchen and –“

In her hurry, Sole miscalculated her next step.  She had just enough time to drop the tray with a haphazard clatter, before her foot slid out from under her, and she toppled right onto Nick Valentine’s lap.  Nick hurriedly put his cigarette out and reached forward reflexively to catch her.  In his haste to steady her, he grabbed her waist, gravely miscalculating her trajectory, and accidently pulling her into him.  Couple that with the poorly timed turn of Sole’s face towards his, and it was the perfect storm, or, depending on who you asked, the perfect kiss.

Sole was mortified, while Nick was equal in his horror, and yet, neither could bring themselves to break it off.  They were frozen, Sole’s lips were still and soft against Nick’s, and Nick’s were…different than she thought they’d be.  Not flesh and blood, but not metal and plastic either.  Sole busied her reeling mind in trying to figure it out – he was a synth, but the burn of his kiss radiated with heat as if he had been flesh and blood. The need he left her with certainly  _felt_  most human.

When Nick finally broke the kiss, Sole wanted more than anything, to not meet the intensity of his golden gaze, but she was frozen.  Her heart was at a standstill in her throat, and her blood was cold.

“I-I’m so sorry Nick!” Sole finally exclaimed, cheeks a vicious crimson.

Nick, still collected as ever, reached into his pocket to pull out another cigarette and his lighter.  In her own bashfulness, Sole missed the way his hand trembled as he shoved the small stick into his mouth and lit it.

“Stealing kisses now, are we?”

Sole’s neck and tips of her ears warmed.  “I didn’t mean to, it was an accident, honest!”

“Sure, sure.” Nick murmured.

Sole was disheartened by how easily Valentine seemed to be able to keep collected in the wake of the kiss that seemed to make her brain short circuit.  Meanwhile, Nick couldn’t trust his voice enough to say anything more than that.

Sole felt Nick shift under her, as he lifted his arms above his head, reaching for something. Sole looked up, and noticed for the first time, that she had hung up a sprig of mistletoe by some fishing line earlier, over this very spot.  Briefly, she tried to recall if she had thought of the implications of such a placement for it, when she decorated.  The feeling of something scratchy, and cold sliding behind her left ear, and pushing the hair from her face, jolted her from her thoughts.  She watched Nick’s good hand, as it placed an offshoot of the mistletoe he had taken from above, behind her ear.

“Now you have a good enough excuse as any, huh?”

“Good enough to do it again?”  Sole mused cheekily.

Nick scoffed as Sole wrapped a hand in his tie, and brought him to her again, intent written all over her eagerness of motion.

**Piper** :  Piper’s hazel eyes studied Sole’s own gaze, one eyebrow cocked in one of the journalist’s iconic haughty expressions.  Sole met her stare evenly – she had traveled with her long enough to understand most of Piper’s expressions.  This one was challenging – not to Sole though, but to the onslaught of stares that watched them expectantly.  Sole fought the urge to squirm, due to Piper’s scrutiny, or the mistletoe that hung above her, like a grand piano, - or maybe a combination of the two.

“C’mon, it’s tradition!”  

Someone called from the back.

“Not yours!” Piper hollered back.

“Just do it!  It’s the rules!”  Another voice sounded off.

Piper sighed at the heightening tension in the room, before turning back to Sole.

“I’m okay with it, if you are.”

Sole shrugged, “Sure, I mean it’s just a kiss.  It’s no big deal.”  She tried to sound casual.

“Exactly.”

“Okay.”

They were back to staring each other down.  No more comments followed, but the crackling tension was building even more, and it wouldn’t be long until someone…got weird.  Sole was unsure of what exactly would come from waiting more, but something probably would, right?  It was the Commonwealth, after all.

Piper leaned in slowly, as if asking permission.  Permission that Sole had already granted, she might add.  Sole let herself lean in too, lips first, wanting to egg Piper on, and yet, not wanting to be the one to close the final distance.  The quiet room grew even quieter.

Piper was close enough now that Sole could count the constellations peppered on her cheeks. She busied herself with doing this, to stop herself from pulling the woman into a heated kiss right then and there.

_1, 2, 3_

Sole felt Piper’s warm breath fan over her face, cherry and cigarette smoke.

_4, 5, 6_

Sole could hear Piper’s breathing hitch in her throat.  Piper worried Sole might hear the hammering of her heart as well.

_7, 8, 9_

Piper lurched forward to press her lips to Sole’s.  A series of wolf whistles emanated from the crowd.  Piper and Sole, both remained perfectly still, too afraid of deepening it, and yet, terrified of the awkward stagnation.  Sole noted how soft Piper’s lips were and continued counting freckles to keep herself from moving her own lips.  She only got to 14, before Piper pulled back, triumphant.

“See that, ya vultures?  Are you satisfied now?”

The buzz of chatter, punctuated by a few drunken guffaws picked up, as the party resumed its rhythm for the night.

“See?  That wasn’t so bad.”  Piper grinned.

“I was never worried! You were the one who hesitated.”

“So did you!”

“Only after you did.”

“Whatever,” Piper rolled her eyes, “Point is, it’s done now, and things between us haven’t changed.”

“Exactly,” Sole agreed, “We’re just good enough friends, that we can do this sort of thing – have each other’s backs, without it getting…weird.”

“How great are we?”

Piper didn’t even give Sole a chance to answer.

“Anyways, it’s getting late – Nat probably thinks I’m laying dead somewhere, in an alley way. I should get back.”

Sole nodded, smiling cheerily.  “Of course, I’ll see you around.  Get home safe.”

Piper turned to leave, throwing her hand up in a final wave.

Sole felt herself visibly relax once Piper had left, as she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding.  She slouched, relieved, and disappointed as her blood pressure lowered.  Sole lifted a hand to rest it against her chest, feeling the gradual way her heartbeat started to slow.

“Nothing’s changed, huh?”  Sole murmured to herself, trying to fend off the shameful disappointment she felt.

Piper headed back home, grateful when her back could stave off the intensity of Sole’s gaze. She lifted a trembling hand to her mouth, letting the tips of her fingers gently brush against her lips, the feather light touch reawakening the ghost of her kiss with Sole from earlier.

“Nothing’s changed, huh Blue?”  Piper mused to herself, crestfallen, unaware of how much things actually had.

Piper continued home, off to bed, cheeks still burning with fresh thoughts of Sole to plague her dreams, while a few houses away, Sole did the same.

**Gage** :  Sole tugged on Gage’s hand, urging him to stop for a moment.  He turned to face her, ignoring the pink hue that rose in his cheeks as a result of the contact.

“Hey, Gage, check it out.”  Sole grinned toothily, as her eyes flicked upward towards the small, green plant suspended above them – one she had strategically planted at the top of the Fizztop Grille, only a few hours prior.

“So?”

“So, it’s mistletoe!” Sole exclaimed, exasperatedly.  “You know the tradition that goes with mistletoe, don’t you?”

Despite the rapidly darkening crimson in Gage’s cheeks, the man scoffed gruffly.  

“Of course, I do, I’m not an idiot, boss.”

“Okay, so then… _abide_  by them!”

Gage raised his eyebrows, “Are you ordering me to kiss you?”

Sole flushed indignantly, forcing her gaze to meet Gage’s.

“No, I’m…ordering you to respect pre-war customs and traditions.”

Gage’s appraising look didn’t falter, but he didn’t comment further either.

It was quiet; peaceful even, which sounded laughable in reference to the raider HQ that was Nukaworld, but that’s what it was.  Night had fallen, and the entire park was lit up, glowing magnificently outside the safety of Sole’s private quarters.  Sole kept the top of Fizztop Mountain modestly lit with lanterns – romantic and whimsical.  They seemed fitting for what she so wished to achieve tonight.

Gage stepped towards Sole, close enough to lean in and kiss her.  Sole wondered if he would.

“Alright,” Gage announced, forebodingly, “Here I go – “

Gage leaned forward to close the distance, right as Sole slid her hand up to block the kiss.

Gage made a face and jerked back.

“Ugh, boss, really? You’re the one who asked me to do this.”

“Wait, just – hold on.”  Sole blurted, with a note of seriousness; it did not go unnoticed by Gage.  He waited expectantly.

“I changed my mind.”

Hurt flashed across Gage’s face, and he recovered quickly, but not quick enough for Sole not to notice.

“What I mean is, I…want to hear some things from you, before we…”

“What kind of things?”

“You know…I want to hear about…” Sole gulped, knowing full well this next part is where she would lose him.

“I  _need_  to hear about your feelings.”

Gage sighed, “On?”

“Me, of course.”

Gage groaned, “Aw c’mon, you know I hate doing this sort of thing.”

It was Sole’s turn to be hurt.  She tried, unsuccessfully, to shake it off.

“Alright, never mind.” Sole spun on her heel, needing the comfort of retreat her back would provide her with.

“Hang on boss, that’s not what I meant.”  Sole felt his calloused hands catch her elbow.

“I just mean…do I really need to say it?”  Gage sounded smaller than Sole had ever heard him.  “You already know how I feel, and…I know how I feel, so why can’t we just leave it like that?”

Sole swallowed the lump in her throat, her eyes misting.  

“Because I don’t know how you feel – you never say it.  And…physicalities can be misleading.”

Gage raised his eyebrows again, god damned analyzing again.

“They can, huh?” he murmured, looking back to study her for a few long moments.

Sole only had time to gasp in surprise, before he grabbed her into a rough kiss.  Sole squirmed against him, and he held her tighter in response, his tongue sneaking into the kiss to ease her lips apart.

“Gage –“she hissed.

Gage kissed her harder in response, grabbing her roughly, and keeping her secured to him in a vise-like grip.

“ _Gage_ ,” she moaned.

And it was then, that Gage pulled away.  Sole’s eyes were wet, and her face was contorted into a raw snarl, ready to attack him for ignoring her orders, and rubbing salt into her bleeding heart.   He drew the pad of his thumb tenderly across her cheekbone.

“I love you, darlin’, you know that, don’t you?”

She melted into him.

**Preston:**  “Aww, c’mon, can’t you stay?”  Sole whined.

Rainbow string lights glowed merrily along the house behind her, and Sole hoped it was enough to convince Preston to stay for the party, but she knew it wouldn’t be.

“I’m sorry, but there’s a settlement that called in to Radio Freedom– they need help.”

“Someone always needs help.”  Sole grumbled, kicking up dust, fussily.

Preston’s quiet chuckle sounded from right beside Sole, and she looked at him – unable to ignore him in a strategic delivery of the silent treatment when she knew he’d be heading out so soon.

“I promise I won’t be long – we’ll celebrate when I get back, just the two of us.”

Sole sighed, resigned – there was no changing his mind, he had always been married to his duty as a Minuteman, she had known that – and still, she had fallen in love with him anyway.  It was her own damned fault.

“Fine, but can you at least do one thing for me before you go?”

“Anything.”

Sole shoved a hand into one of the deep pockets of her trousers, reaching for a remnant of her earlier decorating escapade.  A few moments later, she pulled out a sprig of mistletoe.  Blushing feverishly, Sole mustered all the courage she had in her, and held it indignantly above both her and Preston’s heads.

“Humor me.”

Preston’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and his cheeks darkened.

“Sure,” he murmured.

Sole was surprised it had worked, but didn’t hesitate when Preston leaned in slowly, as if asking permission; still the gentleman.  

Sole grabbed the lapels of his duster, and eagerly crushed her lips to his.  Despite the wave of crimson that flashed over both of their faces, Preston laughed giddily into the kiss, before wrapping his arms tightly around Sole, and dipping her.

Sole squeaked in surprise, losing her grip on the sprig of mistletoe, and letting it fall to the ground as she clung to Preston.  Her heart hammered in her chest, and the butterflies went stir-crazy in her stomach at this new, exciting turn of events.

They could’ve kissed for an eternity, but eventually, Preston pulled back, readjusting his hat, and letting his thumb tug affectionately at Sole’s lightly bruised bottom lip.

“Oh, we’ll  _definitely_  be celebrating lots more when I get back.”

Sole giggled, flushing out of excitement now, rather than being flustered.

“Good luck, Garvey.”

Preston grinned, tipping his hat with a wink.  “Yes, ma’am.”

“Come back to me in one piece, Preston.”  Sole smiled, more softly, worry hardening the sweet gesture slightly.

“I will, babe.”

Preston left a lingering kiss on her forehead, before turning and heading out, several Minutemen following in his wake.

**X6-88** : “Ma’am, be careful – I suspect we’re not alone here.”

“Roger that, X6.”

Sole studied the dilapidated remnants of the abandoned craft store.  The roof was patchy and looked as if it were sliding off the remaining wall structures.  The east wall was crumbling, with enough knocked down that they could slink in that way.

Sole activated the light on her Pip Boy, crossing her dominant hand over the Pip Boy hand, so ensure maximum visibility and defense as she and X6 worked to clear the building. Maneuvering around the fallen debris, Sole’s eyes scanned the perimeter in a constant sweeping motion – one she had picked up early during her time in the Commonwealth.  After clearing the entryway, she and X6 began to weave the aisles, and despite the grim appearance, Sole couldn’t help but get distracted by all the neat trinkets that had survived up until this point.  Art supplies, fake fruits, fake flowers, and finally – the holiday section; Sole thought back to the last time she had been enthralled with such small, useless trinkets.  Simpler times.  Sole smiled at the bittersweet memory.

“Oh, X6 – check this out!”

Sole bounced excitedly, rushing towards the box at the end of the holiday aisle, overflowing with garland.

“Ah yes, another box of garbage, fascinating.”  X6’s face was impassive, as always.

Sole snorted, “No, these are Christmas decorations!”

“Christmas?”

“Yeah, it was a holiday that some people celebrated before the bombs dropped – it happened in the winter, and people would gather with their families, and give gifts, and – yeah, it was just amazing.”  Sole smiled wistfully.

X6 knelt down next to Sole, watching her rifle through the box.

“So many fake trees…” he muttered, and Sole laughed.

“Yeah, those were a large part of the decorating.”

“Seems…pointless.”

“It was,” Sole admitted, “But it made people happy, and didn’t hurt anyone, so…”

X6 was silent.

For a few more moments, X6 watched as Sole pulled out a few items, gasping slightly in surprise, or cooing excitedly.  X6 sought to tune the ridiculous sounds out, and then something caught his eye.

“What’s this?”  

X6 reached into the box, and removed a small green plant, set with small white beads.

“Oh! That’s mistletoe! Or, well, it’s fake, but it’s supposed to be a substitute for real mistletoe, I guess.”

“Mistletoe?”  X6 cocked his head to the side, he’d never heard of such a thing.

“Yeah, it was sort of a Christmas tradition for some people.”  Sole took the sprig of mistletoe from X6’s hand gently.  

“Mistletoe was suspended above someone’s head, like in a doorway or something, sort of like this,” Sole held the mistletoe up above her and X6’s heads.

“And then, the first person that the person under the mistletoe saw, would have to kiss them.” Sole said softly.

X6 studied Sole’s face; she looked softer as she reminisced, less guarded.  Her eyes glimmered in the dark, her cheeks were flushed from the exertion of reaching this damned place, and her hair was lightly mussed.  X6 couldn’t explain the strange things he felt when looking at her, but he knew what it made him want to do.

He lurched forward to capture Sole’s lips with his.  Sole squeaked and jerked back in surprise, bringing her wrist across her mouth furiously.

“What the hell was that for?”

“Mistletoe.”

“I didn’t mean you had to kiss me right here and now!”

“My apologies ma’am, I hadn’t realized that.”  

Sole missed the way X6’s mouth crooked up into a lopsided smile.

“It’s fine, forget it, let’s just…keep going.”

“Lead the way ma’am, I’ll follow.”

Sole shoved the mistletoe back into the box, grumbling slightly, cheeks pink, as she pressed on. X6 waited a few moments, before reaching into the box behind her, retrieving the small, green sprig, and tucking it safely into the pocket of his uniform, that same cocky smile, still on his face.


End file.
